


Glances

by xazliin



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Crushes, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, Michael-centric, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:06:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xazliin/pseuds/xazliin
Summary: As hard as he tried, Michael just couldn’t stop looking---A big ol' mess of pre-slash and Michael's crushes-turned-almost-relationships.





	

It started in eight grade.

Sometime in the week before winter break, Michael was practically running down the halls to Ms Walters’ English class. Ms Walters was one of the few teachers who didn’t have assigned seats. If he got there soon enough, Michael thought, he could get the desk beside Rachel H. first. Before that douchebag Ben did.

His sneakers were squeaking on the linoleum. Michael was filling his head with what he could say to Rachel to make him seem smartest. It was no surprise he didn’t notice the wall of a fellow eighth grader he ran into.  


He was one of the new kids at Michael’s school. He’d moved from Iowa or Illinois or something and his name was Tyler. Michael had half his classes with Tyler and for the first three months had barely noticed his mop of unruly curls. Tyler was just…there. He was just another person Michael didn’t need to interact with. They didn’t have any mutual friends and Michael didn’t have any clubs for them to have met in. Tyler and his freckles were just sitting there, waiting for Michael to wake up and notice them.

Michael’s glasses made direct contact with Tyler’s shoulder. Tyler made a noise like some kind of anime character and Michael’s cheeks turned hot.

“Oh–uh, sorry.”

Tyler was way too tall than an eighth grader had any right to be, Michael thought. Michael himself was only 5’3’’ at most, while Tyler looked the same height as some of the high school kids. His hair curled down to frame his jaw in a way Michael couldn’t help but compare to Rachel’s bangs. Tyler’s eyes sort of…grinned at him with sparkling brown enthusiasm.

“Alright then,” Tyler muttered and Michael realised that he’d been too caught up in looking at the guy’s face to actually say anything.

Michael clutched his books closer to his chest. “Sorry for, y’know, bumping into you.” He surprised even himself with that answer. Even Michael’s closest friends would’ve gotten a ‘watch where you’re going’ or ‘get out of my way, idiot’.

He spun on his heels and sped walked as fast as he could away from Tyler. He’d just been thinking about Rachel too much. Yeah. That sounded normal. He was too worried about what to say to Rachel so he bumped into Tyler–and he was only looking at Tyler’s face because his hair looked similar to Rachel’s.  
     ( _Michael knew it wasn’t; Rachel had smooth, black hair while Tyler’s hair kind of reminded Michael of fancy Italian pasta_.)

Michael realised too late that English class was in the opposite direction of where he was walking.  
     ( _And that he probably looked like an idiot just bumping into Tyler and turning around immediately_ )  
He sighed and resigned himself to skipping the period. English class wouldn’t miss him _too_ much today, even if it did mean not sitting with Rachel H. Michael wouldn’t admit it, but he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to sit beside Rachel at all.

  


  


Once Michael noticed Tyler, he couldn’t un-notice him. Michael’s eyes always snapped to his passing in the hallway, he suddenly became hyper aware of whenever Tyler entered a room, and Michael couldn’t stop his gaze from lingering no matter how hard he tried.

It became worse once Michael’s brain _unhelpfully_ pointed out he could see the outdoor field from the computer lab and–even more unhelpfully–that Tyler had P.E. while Michael was in his Computers class. He told himself he wouldn’t ever squint to get a clearer view of Tyler in the tank top he wore as gym-strip. He repeated over and over again how his breath never stuttered when he imagined Tyler warm and sweaty after a game of soccer.

No matter how much he wanted to, Michael never made a move to try and befriend Tyler. He didn’t think he could trust himself not to do anything stupid.

So Michael kept looking. Stealing little glances at him whenever he got the chance. Taking in however much of Tyler he could. The more it happened, the cockier Michael got. Glancing turned into observing turned into staring. He started memorising the freckles above Tyler’s eyebrow and below his lip and the one dead centre between his eyes. Most of the time he never noticed.

Occasionally, only every once in a while, Michael would reflexively flicker towards Tyler’s face and find that mesmerising brown staring back at him. It left Michael red-faced, casting away with lightning speed, and unsure whether to smile or vomit.

Tyler never said anything. So Michael kept on staring.  
     ( _If he was honest with himself, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop_.)

  


  


Judgement day came on the last day of that school year. By then Michael was 100 percent sure he’d gotten away with everything. His friends were passing around yearbooks, signing them with the most inappropriate words thirteen-year-old boys could come up with. Halfway through writing his fifth ‘bullshit’ of the day, Michael felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Tyler swallowed through his smile. “Can I talk to you?–Just for a minute I promise.”

Michael looked back at his friends. They were all too busy with each other to notice anything about Tyler and Michael. He shrugged in an attempt to be nonchalant. “Sure.” In reality, Michael’s heart was beating faster than it ever had, even faster than it did playing horror games. Some part of his brain worried Tyler could see his heart trying to break out of his chest.

Tyler led Michael around a corner to a rather unpopulated area of the hallway. The lockers jutted out past a turn in the hallway covered them from the left, and a propped open washroom door covered their right. Michael stopped paying attention to bathroom doors and tried his hardest to look Tyler in the eyes and not make eye contact at the same time.

“I hope you didn’t plan to murder me here,” Michael tried to lighten the smothering mood. “’Cause I don’t think I like to be murdermmph–”

Tyler’s face was very close to Michael’s. _Very_ close. Michael saw his closed eyelids and the freckle above his eyebrow before the pressure on his lips registered. Michael gasped with the realisation but didn’t push away. It was warm and different than anything Michael ever expected. Especially the lips belonging to _Tyler_ part.

“I hoped to say something before I did that,” Tyler whispered over Michael’s lips.

Michael hoped his smile wasn’t wavering too much, “That’s okay.” If Tyler noticed the crack in Michael’s voice, he didn’t say anything.

  


  


Tyler moved back to wherever he was from at the end of a summer filled with learning how kisses work and how much pressure to use so you don't leave a hickey. At the same time, Michael found out what the word 'gay' meant and locked himself in his room for a week. Going back to school, Michael tried his best to hold his smile and joke along with the rest of his friends like he did before, but judging by the looks they were giving him he didn’t do too well.

After a couple months, Michael bounced back to what was could be considered his normal self. But his mind still wandered to Tyler in Iowa or Illinois and if any of that meant as much to Tyler as it did to him. Michael wondered if Tyler was wondering about him too.  


  


  


The next time doesn’t turn out nearly as well for Michael.

Four years later and Michael was in high school. _Just finish this year_ , he told himself. He just had to wait it out then he could figure out what the hell he wanted to do with his life. Michael was itching to get out of Jersey. As much as he loved the place he grew up, he needed to live and see the world.

The guy’s name is Nick and when Michael kissed him it’s all one blur of swallowing drink after drink and tan skin on his and the gentlest hands Michael had ever felt. He was almost glad he lost his virginity drunk at a party as long as it was to Nick.

Nick was a school a few miles away. All he knew about Nick was he played a sport– _how could he not with a body like that?_ –and was about as inexperienced as Michael was. His hair was cut short on his scalp and when Michael woke up that morning he half expected for everything to be a dream.

Michael woke uncomfortably warm in the harsh sunlight of his friend’s guest room. He stretched to shuck off the comforter, then noticed there was no comforter. Through the fuzzy lens of glasses-less vision, Michael could tell he was wearing only his boxers and a sheet, and the sunlight wasn’t the cause of the heat, but instead a ( _muscular_ ) body pressed up against him. An equally muscular arm was draped across Michael’s torso.

His muscles tensed. He was, after all, pretty much naked in a bed with a pretty much complete stranger. Michael felt Nick’s breathing on the back of his neck. He pretended it didn’t make him want to shiver.

“Hey,” Michael whispered into the room. The guy’s arm made it nearly impossible to move in any way. “Dude,” he said louder this time.

Nick’s breathing shifted.

“Mind letting me move?” Michael chuckled. The guy ended up practically shoving Michael off the bed.

Michael caught himself before he fell, suddenly thankful for his passing grade in P.E. The sheet soon followed Michael when Nick snapped upright. Peering over the bed, Michael had a view of the guy who was in bed with him. Nick’s stomach was toned with dark black hair accenting his happy trail. From what he could tell, Michael was just a smidge taller than Nick.

Nick was rubbing at his temples. “Shitshitshit–this–shit–I can’t–shit.”

“Woah, dude,” Michael held his palm out towards Nick. “Calm down.”

“I need to–no– _fuck!”_ Nick shouted and kicked the floor of the bed.

Michael’s attempt to relax Nick obviously didn’t work. He tried to think and scratched the back of his neck. “Okay…um…I’m Michae–”

He was cut off by the sound of the bedroom door slamming. Suddenly Michael wasn’t sure whether he still thought the same things about his first time. He didn’t bother running off to remind Nick that he left his jeans and shirt in the bedroom.

  


  


The next day, Michael had resigned himself to never seeing Nick again. There was no reason he would. They went to different schools, in different grades and only had that one mutual friend that threw the party. And with the way Nick left, Michael was even more certain they wouldn’t _want_ to see each other again.

Despite it all, to Michael’s surprise, Nick was standing hands-in-pockets in front of Michael’s old half-broken down car. Michael’s cheeks warmed and Nick sheepishly beckoned to him.

“Hi,” Nick said. His eyes kept darting around from his shoes to Michael’s face back to his shoes.

“Hey,” Michael greeted with a nod.

Michael saw the way Nick’s front teeth glided over his lip and ignored the sinking feeling deep in his stomach. “I just, uh, I wanted to apologise for the other night.”

Michael observed the muscles in Nick’s shoulders tensing, the lines in his arms, the callouses littering his fingers. “It’s fine.”

“No really,” Nick objected. “I was drunk, you were drunk. And I’m not normally, um,” he made a vague gesture between the two of them, “You know.”

“It’s fine,” Michael repeated, nodding like he understood what Nick was saying. He was more concerned about Nick knowing what school to find him at. “How did you know I went here?” 

Nick flushed, “You told me. At the party–and I recognised the car in the parking lot.”

“I _really_ have to get going,” Michael hoped the guy would get the hint and step away from the car before Michael had to _make_ him step away from the car.

“Wait!” Nick held up his hand in a way that reminded Michael of the way Michael held up his hand just a day prior. Michael raised his eyebrow, or at least tried to, instead of thinking of anything to say. “Lunch? Thursday?”

Michael kept silent.

Nick pulled a piece of paper seemingly out of thin air. “Just, think about it. Please.” His smile made Michael think back to those commercials with one-eyed puppies and sad Candian music.

“Fine.”

  


  


Michael didn’t mean to take Nick up on the offer when taking the phone number. But every time he came close to tossing the paper into the garbage can he thought back to that sad puppy look and folded it back in his wallet. So he sat with it.

Monday passed. Then Tuesday. Michael was getting fidgety. His thoughts would drift to the idea of a–lunch–event? outing? date?–with Nick, then flash back to the way he stormed out of the room that morning. The further time between Michael and the ‘incident’ the more Michael was considering putting it behind them. Michael didn’t exactly have a mob of people waiting to date him for his dazzling personality.

 _He could’ve just been overwhelmed_ , Michael thought. _Anyone would be in that situation_. But that didn’t excuse Nick’s behaviour.

Michael bit his lip.  
     ( _Someone watching would’ve noticed him mimicking the way Nick bit his the other day_ )  
He tossed around the idea of calling Nick in his mind. Nick certainly wasn’t bad looking. And he was brave enough to confront Michael.

 _Fuck it_ , Michael thought, reaching into his wallet. If Nick could be brave then so could Michael. He punched the numbers into his flip-phone and considered what words to choose.

Eventually, he settled on a “ **Hey, it’s Michael** ”, pressed send, and awaited the reply.

  


  


Michael grew to appreciate the muscles in Nick’s shoulders. The thin line of stubble layering his jaw. Over time, he grew to love the subtle dip in Nick’s back and the way his skin glittered with sweat after a workout.

They didn’t sleep together, not after the first time. They didn’t kiss either. In fact, the only form of affection Michael ever got from Nick was a bro-hug or an occasional press of their shoulders. Michael found himself suppressing an instinct to comfort Nick’s arms or to smooth out the crease that appeared between Nick’s eyebrows whenever he got worried.

So it probably wasn’t a date.

 _Oh well_ , Michael thought. It was still almost worth it to see the sun streaming through the cafe windows to blanket Nick’s cheekbones.

  


  


Nick got a girlfriend a few weeks later. He didn’t tell Michael much about her. All he knew was her name started with L and she went to Nick’s school. The night of ‘The Incident’, as Michael dubbed it, was never brought up again. Whenever Michael found himself making an offhanded comment about the party, or alcohol, or Nick in general, Nick would turn away tight-lipped and white-faced.

It was like some cruel twist of fate; the second person in Michael’s life to have reciprocated interest was suddenly oh so unattainable. However unattainable Nick was, though, it didn’t stop Michael from enjoying what he couldn’t have with his eyes. After only weeks of friendship, Michael was sure he could pick out of a crowd just by his left hand. Or maybe his jaw. Or possibly an eyebrow. It wouldn’t have been so much of a problem if Nick hadn’t noticed it.

More than once occasion Michael’s eyes had dragged themselves up Nick’s body only to find rich brown burning into him.

Michael was…a little more than confused by the mixed signals Nick was sending him. They were having an ordinary conversation one second, then throwing words–and sometimes even objects–at each other the next. The fighting, the mutual staring, and Nick’s straight-out refusal to acknowledge ‘The Incident’ beyond his apology in the parking lot was exhausting.

Michael was woken up from his much-needed sleep by the familiar ringing of his cell phone.

“Hey, Michael,” said Nick’s voice. The alarm clock beside Michael’s bed said it was just barely 8 am.

Michael cleared his throat, “What’s up?”

“Um, I was thinking we could meet? Like today?”

“Sure,” Michael agreed sceptically.

He could hear some rustling on the other end. “Great. I’ll…see you at your house? Does four work.”

“Sure.”

“Great.” Michael could hear Nick’s smile before he hung up. It wasn’t unusual for Nick to call him to make plans. What was unusual was being phoned at 8 am on a Sunday. He shook it off in lieu of turning over and drifting back into sleep.

  


  


Nick showed up overdressed in a plaid button-down tucked into his jeans. He looked a tad bit too cowboy for Michael’s liking. “What’s the special occasion?” Michael teased.

Nick flushed. “I’m taking Lily out to dinner afterwards,” he explained. So Lily was her name.

“Cool,” Michael’s hands sat uncomfortably in his pockets. “What was so important that you needed to call me so early?”

The sun was just beginning to float behind the tallest buildings in the skyline. It cast shadows over Nick’s face and Michael found himself once again unable to look away.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Nick announced. “I’m–well I’m leaving when summer starts.”

Michael nodded, “Okay.”

“There’s a summer program thing my mom wants me to do before college. It’s out in Oregon. And college is out of state, and everything is so complicated right now and–”

“You’ll be fine.” Michael suppressed his twinge of disappointment.

Nick took some deep breaths to steady himself. “Just–I–yeah. I guess so.”

The two stared at each other. A breeze was blowing into Michael’s still half-open front door. Michael was mesmerised by Nick’s eyes while he wondered what Nick saw in his.

“You should probably get on with that date,” Michael said. “Lillian can’t keep waiting forever.”

“Yeah,” Nick agreed. “I probably should.” Neither of them moved.  


“See you later.”

“Yeah.”

Michael was the first to tear himself out of the trance. His limbs felt stiff as he turned to close the door.

  


  


Nick never called Michael again. Michael wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be disappointed or relieved. Nick had, presumably, went off to college and married Lillian and lived happily ever after. He probably had some dog with some pretentious name like Duke or Bear.

Michael didn’t care how Nick just completely dropped off the map. He didn’t care that he never got an explanation for ‘The Incident’.

Michael didn’t care at all.

  


  


Burnie Burns was at least eleven times more intimidating in person. Even in dressed down blue jeans he looked more professional than Michael could ever hope to be. “Hello there, Michael,” he greeted with a handshake.

“Hey,” Michael said, some far-off area of his mind wondering if he was being too casual.

There wasn’t much discussion needing to be done; they’d smoothed out all the kinks long before Michael even left Jersey. Burnie led Michael down the hallway in stiff near-silence. He spoke occasionally to point out where certain doors led or who the people they passed were.

“The bathrooms are just over there,” Burnie nodded in some direction Michael wasn’t paying attention to.

Instead, his eyes were glued to an open door six or seven feet ahead of them. Or, more realistically, the space behind it. There it was–the obnoxiously recognisable bright green–only six feet away.

“And we’re here,” Burnie stated the obvious. His knock-turned-push on the door has enough force to prop it open just that little bit more and–

Michael made it. He was face to face with the actual _Achievement Hunter office_ about to play _video games_ for money. He steadied a hand on the door frame.

Burnie clapped Michael’s shoulder. “This is where I dump you on Geoff. Have fun.” Before Michael could think of anything to say, Burnie had already pivoted back down the hallway.

Inside the room are two people Michael instantly realises are Geoff Ramsey and Jack Pattillo. Jack’s frown seemed buried in his beard while Geoff’s grin split his face in half. “Hey,” Michael repeats with an awkward wave.

  


  


It was Valentine’s Day and fact that he remembered that said more about Michael than anything else. The man in front of him had one of the largest noses Michael had ever seen. His chin and jaw were peppered with a blanket of thin stubble that made Michael’s fingers itch to reach up and touch it.

Geoff’s hand was flopping in between the two of them. “Michael, Gavin. Gavin, Michael.”

Gavin’s eyes were sparkling clear and green with the energy from his smile. “Nice to meet you, _Michael_.”  
     ( _That definitely didn’t make Michael’s spine shiver. Nope. Not at all._ )

“Yeah,” the words felt weaker than they should have. “Good to meet you too, Gavin.”

Either Gavin was incredibly good at faking polite smiles or he was genuinely happy because the full row of teeth he flashed Michael made something flutter in his chest.

As hard as he tried, Michael just couldn’t stop looking. Every inch of Gavin’s exposed, tanned skin. Every small private smile that he seemed to only send Michael. Every beaming chuckle after every too-lame joke.

 _Shit_ , Michael thought.

He was completely utterly screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments/criticism/corrections would be amazingly helpful :)  
> Thank you!


End file.
